


One Night (the Break of Dawn remix)

by Jain



Category: Hornblower (TV)
Genre: Community: remix_redux, First Time, M/M, POV Third Person, Past Tense, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-24
Updated: 2011-04-24
Packaged: 2017-10-18 14:30:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jain/pseuds/Jain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Archie's always considered himself more of a romantic than an opportunist, but sometimes there's little difference between the two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Night (the Break of Dawn remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inalasahl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inalasahl/gifts).
  * Inspired by [After Ferrol](https://archiveofourown.org/works/61077) by [inalasahl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inalasahl/pseuds/inalasahl). 



A late hour, an overindulgence in wine, and the animal pleasure of sharing a warm bed were a dangerous combination, Archie reflected. He'd woken perhaps two hours after dropping into a dreamless sleep to find himself...rather more interested in Horatio's presence than was seemly. He'd pulled his hips away almost instantly, of course, but the mattress's sag made it impossible to put an appropriate distance between the two of them. Archie felt each press of Horatio's body against his bare skin as though it were a flame, hot and mesmerizing and wholly unable to ignore.

His stern self-admonishment yielding no results, Archie at last sighed and slid out of the bed. Though he was painfully tired, he wouldn't allow himself to inadvertently disturb Horatio's rest or, almost worse than that, to offer an insult to Horatio's generous nature by remaining bundled beside him while aroused.

The street outside the inn was dimly lit, only a few widely spaced streetlamps still burning. Archie watched with weary interest as a man even drunker than he stumbled along the cobblestones, and then as an impossibly agile black cat followed the man's path several minutes later. Then there was nothing, only the moon and the streetlamps providing any diversion for his gaze. His eyelids dropped against his wishes, aided by the feeling of cotton wool stuffing his still drunk head; soon he might be able to return to bed without causing further offense to Horatio's sleeping form.

Before he could do so, however, there was a stirring from the bed, and Horatio murmured, "Archie?"

Archie froze, silent, not wanting to respond in case Horatio would drift back to sleep undisturbed.

He should have known better than to hope for such a thing; Horatio was too used to waking at a moment's notice, and anything amiss in his environment--such as a missing bedmate--would prick at him until he'd resolved it to his satisfaction. Bare moments later, Horatio blinked his eyes open and scanned the room until he discovered Archie standing by the window.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice still muzzy with sleep, but clearing rapidly.

"It's nothing, Horatio." Archie smiled at him, though he felt that his expression wasn't quite as easy as it ought to have been. "Go back to sleep."

Ever stubborn, Horatio responded by shaking his head and moving to join Archie in front of the window. His dark eyes were more unfathomable than ever in the pale moonlight, his face even more achingly beautiful.

Before he quite realized what he was doing, Archie had reached out to cup Horatio's cheek; one thumb stroked along the sharp line of Horatio's jaw.

Horatio frowned at him in honest bewilderment, his emotions shining from his face even in the room's dim light. "Archie, what...?" he began.

"Please, Horatio," Archie said.

Horatio shook his head in obvious confusion. "Are you quite well?"

Archie bit back a burst of inappropriate laughter and, buoyed by the twin sensations of giddiness and the warmth of Horatio's concern for him, he leaned forward and kissed Horatio full on the lips.

For a long, terrifying moment, Horatio was absolutely still. Through the lingering haze of alcohol and whatever... _moonsickness_ had prompted Archie to take this irreversible step, Archie was somehow able to think quite rationally of the fact that any response--Horatio's shock, his anger, his disgust--would be better than this unknowing. And then Horatio's lips moved clumsily against his, attempting to reciprocate, and all such fears were pushed aside in the stunned realization that Horatio was not refusing his advances.

Rationally, Archie knew that the most likely explanation for Horatio's acquiescence was sheer...well... He scarcely liked to think the words in conjunction with Horatio, who'd always been so painfully proper and upright. But Horatio had confessed not three hours ago to never having so much as kissed a girl. It would be no surprise if he were a little...impassioned as a result.

Archie's heart swelled with a hopeless mixture of fondness and self-pity at the thought. Horatio might not love Archie as Archie loved him, he might not even _desire_ him truly, but he desired _someone_. Though it barely compared to some of Archie's more impossible dreams, he could nonetheless provide Horatio with a bit of bodily relief and, if God were good enough to grant that Horatio not turn from him in disgust on the morrow, a sweet memory of pleasure shared and of a friend who would do anything for Horatio, regardless of the cost to himself.

Although his mind and heart were in turmoil, Archie nonetheless never deviated from his primary task: Horatio's mouth was explored carefully, from his clever tongue to his soft cheeks to even the slick smoothness of his teeth, and when he'd traced as much of Horatio's mouth as he could, then he coaxed Horatio's tongue into his own mouth so that Horatio could return the favor. It was intoxicating, standing there trading sweet, wet kisses with Horatio, until an overeager caress from Horatio's hands made Archie choke with a sudden and irrational terror.

He pulled away, gasping for breath with suddenly too-small lungs, barely aware that Horatio's face had washed white with fear.

"Archie," Horatio said, his voice unsteady. "Did I do someth--"

"No," Archie interrupted, unable to bear Horatio's continuing. "You did nothing wrong. It's only...you pulled at my neck a little hard."

Horatio blinked at him, obviously confused at the no doubt strange-sounding complaint.

"It's no matter," Archie concluded and took Horatio's mouth again in a kiss that he could feel becoming more desperate by the second. Horatio didn't pull at him again--indeed, Horatio didn't _touch_ him again, which puzzled Archie until he stroked his hands along Horatio's arms and discovered that Horatio had clasped his hands behind his back, apparently as insurance against distressing Archie further.

Archie made a soft, desperate noise against Horatio's lips. Truly, how could such a man be _real_ , let alone declare himself Archie's friend and allow Archie to profane him with the touch of his hands and mouth?

And Archie would do far more than that, he knew: for Horatio, for himself, for this one in a thousand chance to take what he never thought would be offered to him, even for a single night. Horatio crossed the room unhesitatingly as Archie drew him back to the bed, and Archie knew without caring that he was utterly lost.


End file.
